Day 3 Fashion Police

PML 2012 Day 3


The Prompt:

From pimptress Dana Gillespie, a photo of a shop window in Quebec City. I am obviously quite fashion ignorant, as I did not realize that Fuck La Mode was a clothing line. According to their blurb, the F-bomb is not as offensive in Canada as it is in the States, and the store’s name basically means “to heck with fashion.” 

The Product:

A monologue. A woman in “mom pajamas” sits behind the wheel of her car, talking to a policeman.


I was not talking on my cell phone and driving, I was listening to my talking watch. My watch talks, see? I mean, listen – hear it? Wait, I’ll turn it up for you and-  Okay, okay, hands are on the wheel. They’re on the wheel.


And by the way, sir, that inspection sticker just now expired. It’s only the second week of the month. And do you know what? This car has been in the shop. I’ll give you the number, you can call them. I was going to get it inspected after work yesterday, but my son fell and busted his chin open and we had to –


It has a reminder setting. My watch. It tells me when I need to be somewhere, or take a pill, and no, before you ask, no, I have not taken any medications today other than a water pill and a non-drowsy, non-stimulant allergy medication. …And ten milligrams of Buspar which is a mild and perfectly safe drug to take and drive, as it in no way impairs my driving, I can show the pill bottle, just a minute, it’s in my purse here-

Okay, okay! Hands on the wheel, see? There are one, two hands and they are on the steering wheel.


Oh my god! Are you writing a ticket? Why are you writing – what are you writing there?

I wasn’t on the phone, I was listening to my watch!  You can check my cell phone records. Just check them. And when did talking on your phone and driving become a law? I never heard anything-


And don’t tell me I was speeding because I know I wasn’t! I drive through this school zone numerous times a day, every day. I know this school zone, this is my neighborhood school, I love this school. I love these children. My own children would go to this school…if they weren’t already going to the Christian Children’s Academy. Look officer, look at me – I’m wearing a raincoat over flannel pajama pants with pictures of rubber duckies and soap bubbles, and bags under my eyes –  I’m a total mom.

How could I, or any mother – your mother!. How could she, or I, put a child, any child, in harm’s way? Jeopardy Answer Is! We wouldn’t!

(laughs. beat)

Excuse me, I don’t mean – I don’t mean to assume anything about your upbringing, I just always assume that anyone who’s a cop, police office I mean, I assume that you had a great role model back there somewhere, someone who made you want to go out and catch real criminals…and not waste your time chasing down some woman with bags under her eye who threw on a coat and crammed her black houseshoe socks over her red Birkenstocks because it’s a Monday morning and by god, she’s headed back home after dropping off the kids because by god, this is her only day off for the next two weeks, because she is a mom, and working outside the home, taking care of two children mostly by herself because of a husband who…


Who knew it could take so long to write a ticket. Wow. Okay.

(flirting a little)

Now, I do hope you are being kind, you know, when you’re guestimating the weight, right? I mean, there is a weight on my drivers license but, you know how that goes. What women do. We all lie. I mean, I know that is a sworn document, and nine years ago or so, I was close to that weight, before children, you know. …What does it say there on my license, anyway? What’s the weight? And I know I’m shrinking, you know, with age, like we women do. We “women of a certain age,” you know we – Well, we all have our … issues.

(long beat. sighs)

Any idea how much this’ll cost?


About Vicki Caroline Cheatwood

Writerly. Rebooting. Evolving. Searching for great chicken salad.
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